Primroses and Citrons
by ItsCalledtheDistrict
Summary: If you had told Mathias Kohler five years ago that he'd have a family and be happy, he'd have thought you crazy. Three years ago, if you had told him that Lukas Bondevik was alive, he would have thought you insane. Now, when both scenarios are reality, Mathais thinks he may be the one going a little mad. Especially when his past lover was pronounced dead five years ago.


**Story:** Primroses and Citrons  
 **Author:** itscalledthedistrict  
 **Summary:** If you had told Mathias Kohler five years ago that he'd have a family and be happy, he'd have thought you out of your mind. Three years ago, if you had told him that Lukas Bondevik was alive, he would have told you it wasn't funny to joke like that. Now, when both scenarios are reality, Mathais thinks he may be the one going a little crazy. Especially when his past lover was pronounced dead five years ago.  
 **Pairings:** Denmark/Belgium, (past?) Denmark/Norway, mentioned Sweden/Finland  
 **Characters:** Denmark (Mathais), Belgium (Emma), Norway (Lukas), Sweden (Berwald), mentions of Finland (Tino), Ladonia (Oskar) and Sealand (Peter)  
 **Warnings:** Mentions of war, past relationship drama  
 **Disclaimer:** Like in all of my works, I own only the plot.

* * *

" _And today, we are pleased to announce that US Troop 473 was found on a deserted island off of the coast of Seychelles. These brave Army men were pronounced MIA five years ago after the bombings of Yakani. Four were pronounced dead, while three are in critical condition. They are expected to return to their families by the end of the year. The best of luck to these individuals_."

Berwald Oxenstierna stopped paying attention to the TV after the newscaster finished her story. He sighed, dropping his head into his hands. After so many years of thinking he was dead... there was a possibility that Lukas was alive. How crazy was that?

Berwald remembered the funeral with vivid detail. The amount of emotion in the atmosphere as everyone cried about their lost hero could never be forgotten. He remembered holding Tino's hand while the empty coffin was placed in the ground, and how Emil refused to go because _his brother wasn't dead dammit_. "Show me the body before you make such accusations." He said.

Well, now there was a possibility that Emil was right. Berwald didn't know what to think about that.

And... oh gods Mathais. Mathais, the former boyfriend of the fallen hero. Did he know yet? Probably not, since he didn't even go home until 6:30. Did Emma know? Would she tell him right away? Berwald hoped not.

He shook his head. It wasn't even confirmed if Lukas was one of the fortunate ones to survive. Why was he overthinking this?

A pair of arms slid around his shoulders as he sighed. "Rakkaani, it's late. We can talk about this in the morning." A gentle voice whispered.

Berwald turned his head to meet his love's eyes. "I'll be up in a second," he promised, "I need to turn everything off first."

Tino nodded, giving his husband a quick peck on the lips before leaving him alone.

He turned off the TV and lights before headed upstairs. There was no reason to dwell on it now, he thought. His priority now was to make sure Peter and Oskar were asleep, like they were supposed to be two hours ago.

-... .-. - -.- . -. / ... . .-. - / .- .-.. .- .- -.- ... / ..-. .- .-.. .-.. ...

"And then the prince galloped back home, ready to tell the queen of his adventures. But then a big wind came, and suddenly the big bad wolf appeared! The little prince wasn't scared though. The big, band wolf spoke with his big, loud voice. 'I'm so hungry,' he said, 'I think I'm in the mood for... something rich!"

The three year old giggled as his father ticked his stomach. Mathais laughed; there was no sound more pure than the sound of his son's laugh, he thought.

A knock on the door alerted Mathais that he was being watched. "There she is," Mathais told his son, "there's the queen of the story. Isn't she beautiful? No wonder all her subjects adore her."

Emma rolled her eyes, "Flattery will get you nowhere darling." She made her way over to the rocking chair. Looking at the boy, she pouted, "Aw, he's almost asleep already. You must be a really bad storyteller for that to happen."

Mathais gaped at his wife. "I'll have you know that my stories are fantastic! Hans Christian Andersen would be proud of my skills. It is you, dear wife, that finds them boring."

Emma smiled as she took her son. "What do you think Luca? Do you think Daddy is a good storyteller?" She asked.

Luca looked at his mother. "Mommy, I'm sleepy. It time for bed."

'Magical words for a parent to hear', Mathais thought.

Emma put Luca in bed and kissed his forehead. "Goodnight little prince. I love you, see you in the morning."

"Night night mama, night night daddy." Luca responded.

Mathais smiled as he shut the door. He sighed with relief. "Does this mean we'll actually get the bed to ourselves tonight?" He asked hopefully.

Emma shrug her shoulders. "I don't know, but we better treasure it while it lasts." Without hesitation, Mathais escorted his wife to their bedroom, eager to finally have some time alone with her.

Hours later, Emma was woken by the doorbell ring. She untangled herself from her husband's hold and threw on one of his shirts before going downstairs.

She opened the door to the sight of a young, tired man. He didn't seem any older than Berwald, Mathais's stepbrother. He looked thin, almost too thin, she thought. "Can I help you?" Emma asked.

The man opened and shut his mouth several times before speaking. "I'm sorry, I think I have the wrong house." He answered. "I'm looking for a Mathais Kohler, but I think I have an outdated phone-book. So sorry for disturbing you at this-"

"Babe, who is it? If it's that Hungarian girl again just tell her that no, you don't know Tino..." Mathais stopped at the top of the staircase.

It seemed like the world disappeared at that moment. All he could see was the man in the doorway.

He was way too thin, Mathais noted. Thin, tired, broken... the list went on. But he knew who it was; there was no way that you _wouldn't_ know who he was.

"Lukas?"

* * *

 **My friend and I were exchanging sad stories, one about a soldier's love who had moved on when the other was pronounced dead (even though they were very much alive). Although I don't ship DenNor much, this one seemed perfect for them. I may continue this, though I feel like it can stand alone.**

 **I hope you enjoyed! I'm hoping to get out of my writing slump soon, so look out for an update for _My Year With the Nordics_! **


End file.
